


Young and Menace

by hyunjinn



Category: Kpop - Fandom, NCT (Band), NCT Dream
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Breakup, Child Abuse, Fluffy Ending, Homelessness, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Soul words, Starbucks, Substance Abuse, barista chenle, minor jaesung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:26:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunjinn/pseuds/hyunjinn
Summary: Park Jisung's life seems to be made worse by soulmates, so he makes the decision to avoid his soulmate as much as possible through the words on his wrist. Then everything goes to shit.





	Young and Menace

**Author's Note:**

> AIGHT SO IM BACK AT IT AGAIN DESPITE NEGLECTING SHOOT ME
> 
> sooooo i did mess around with ages but for the jist of it, jaemin and chenle are in the same year and jisung is a year below them. mark and donghyuk are a few years above that

In life, everyone has a soulmate. A person that no matter your faults would love you to no end. Someone that you would have a connection with no matter what. Everyone got their tattoos by the time they were ten years old. The first words their soulmate would ever say to them gracefully inked on their arms when they reached the age of ten. And once they had made the interaction the red words would turn black.

_ ‘Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you today?’  _

Those were the words that Jisung Park had grown to despise. He didn’t want a soulmate, sometimes he felt like he was the only one in the world that didn’t but he was beyond caring. At only eleven years old Jisung’s father had been stolen away from him in a hit and run. If that wasn’t enough heartbreak for the boy his mother also left him. Not physically but rather he seemed to have lost the woman that had raised him. The woman that would sing to him at night, that would throw icing sugar at him playfully whilst baking, that every Friday night would shove all the living room furniture out of the way so that they could hold dancing competitions that his father would always judge. The death of his father- his mother’s soulmate - had created a heartless monster. She turned to heroin to attempt to bury her pain. The drugs robbed her of her caring personality, instead, she had to sell the house and most of their belongings just to feed her addiction. On bad days she would beat the ever living crap out of Jisung just for the hell of it knowing he would never fight back against her. She would berate him with the most terrible things that a mother could ever say to a child as Jisung would lay curled up on the floor or whatever place he had fallen, covered in bruises and blood. She would always leave to get a hit after blaming Jisung on the death of her soulmate. Because according to her, he wasn’t worthy of a father.

 

And eventually, the boy began to believe it. So he made it his mission in life to avoid his potential soulmate at all costs. He could admit that the  _ idea  _ of a soulmate was intriguing but Jisung knew the truth. That when they left him, he would be no better off than his mother. He was lucky with his words. All he had to do to avoid heartbreak was to avoid Starbucks’ which seemed fairly easy. It was a popular place and he had never tried anything from the chain so he made a habit of knowing the locations and avoiding them at all costs.

-

Jisung stood in the school parking lot with half a cigarette in his mouth. He took a deep drag and let the smoke out, relishing in the feeling of content that flooded through his body with every puff. He was eighteen, about to graduate and knew that it wasn’t the best idea to smoke but he didn’t care. He would never turn to hard drugs, not after seeing the personal hurricane seemingly gifted to every junkie that used them, his mother included. 

Jisung took another drag and flicked the stick to the ground, putting it out with his shoe as he let the smoke out through his nose. He picked up his backpack that was leaning against the dumpster he always smoked behind.

Jisung placed the straps over his shoulders and trudged back to the school building; lunch was almost over and he wanted to be able to sneak a quick kiss in with his boyfriend before class. He ran a slender hand through his soft bleached white hair. That was something that Jaemin always commented on; how impossibly soft his hair was despite being constantly treated with chemicals. Jisung had always shrugged it off, throwing a witty somewhat egotistical comment humorously his boyfriend's way and leaving it at that. The blonde walked through the maze of classrooms and halls before reaching his destination; the door to Jaemin’s next period class, music. Jisung waited patiently outside of the room for his boyfriend. Something he always wondered about was how obsessed people seemed to be over their potential soulmates when Jisung was perfectly happy in his current relationship. He was never unsatisfied with holding Jaemin’s hand or cuddling him while they watched movies or making out behind the school where no one could see. Deep down he knew something was missing but he never dwelled on it and just remained happy.

Minutes passed by and  Jisung began to grow impatient. Classes would start in a few minutes and while most of Jaemin’s classmates had already entered the room Jaemin remained missing. 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Jisung saw the pink haired boy walking down the looking happier than Jisung had ever seen him.

While normally Jisung would feel better just because of his boyfriend's positive demeanor for some reason the almost airy look Jaemin sported on his face filled Jisung with unease. This feeling intensified when Jaemin laid eyes on him and immediately his grin turned downwards and a look of anxiety took over his features.

 

“Hey, babe” Jisung said affectionately with a soft smile, pushing off the wall and stepping towards the other desperately hoping that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong.

“Jisung we need to talk,” Jaemin said coldly. Jisung flinched back at his tone, hurt showing on his face.

“Jaemin. . . What happened.” Jisung voice cracked as emotions flooded his system. Of course, he knew what was happening and that there was nothing he could do to prevent it but he refused to accept it.

“I found them,” Jaemin said sadly, his impassive demeanor seemingly coming down.

Jisung felt like he had been punched in the gut. A chilling numbness settled over his body making him break out in sweat.

“Or more specifically him. He was looking through books in the library and he bumped into me making me drop my own books, and guess what he said to me Jisung.” Jaemin said, his eyes watering.

“Please no Jaemin, remember the promises we made in the park that day? That we loved each other more than any asshole fate threw at us. Remember that?” Jisung said, his voice almost begging. He couldn’t lose Jaemin. Not like this.

“He said ‘you read Hwang Sokyong too?’. He said the exact words on my wrist. And the funny thing was that I wasn’t even ‘gonna read that book ‘cause I know that it would lead me to my soulmate. I found it on the floor and I went to put it back and  _ fuck  _ Jisung when I looked at him the whole world disappeared for a second and I just remember swearing and crying and him comforting me and he was so fucking sweet. Jisung I’m so sorry, I never wanted this to happen but now it is and I can’t fucking help it!” Jaemin shouted, luckily class had started so no one was in the halls.

Jisung felt tears start falling from his eyes and before he knew it he was sobbing, heels of his palms dug into his eyes, shoulders shaking and this ache in his chest that he couldn’t ignore.

_ Why did everything he cared about have to get ruined by stupid fucking soulmates _ ?

“D-did I, I disappear when you saw him Jaemin. Did I become just some extra, just some  _ thing  _ that you vaguely acknowledged?” The younger said angrily between quiet sobs. Jaemin seemed to crack and a tear left his eye. He rushed forward and enveloped Jisung in a painfully tight hug. Jisung gripped handfuls of his shirt and cried into the crook of his neck. Jaemin was a light in Jisung’s life that he wasn’t ready to give up yet. Jaemin was kind and funny and beautiful and  _ warm. _ Sometimes Jisung would refer to the other as his own personal sun to which Jaemin would always reply with;

_ ‘If I’m the sun then you’re the moon Jisung, you are sleek and beautiful and light up the night sky.’ _

Well, it turns out that the sun doesn’t need the moon to survive even when the moon needs the sun.

 

“I’m so sorry Jisung but I’ve, I’ve never felt like this before and I hate to admit it but I feel like I’m already falling for him,” Jaemin said quietly. Jisung ignored the clench around his heart and shoved the boy away, wiping the tears off his face and turning to leave.

“Jisung, please. Can we at least stay friends? I can’t bear to lose you.” Jisung was so very tempted but he knew that seeing Jaemin with anyone else would make him feel worse so instead he kept his head low and in a hushed voice said; “Goodbye Jaemin.”

 

The boy walked out of the school, ignoring the fact that he had classes. Jisung marched over to where he had stashed his longboard, up in some trees because his school had a strict no-skateboarding rule, and rode it through the parking lot into the street.

He didn’t know where he was going. He felt his sadness going away faster than he’d like to admit, all because his body accepted that the one that had left him was not, in fact, the one his soul was bonded to. Jisung quickly replaced his sadness with anger regardless. He rode as fast as he could down Seoul's back streets, ignoring the occasional honks sent his way. He sent a quick apology towards a guy as he narrowly missed hitting him while he stepped into a street car. He kept speeding up, tears continuously falling from his eyes only to be dried by the wind beating against his face. Jisung kept his teeth clenched and kept reaching up to wipe at his nose.

His eyes stung and once again he reached up to wipe them off when his board hit the curb, causing him to be flung onto the sidewalk. He barely avoiding hitting his face by throwing his hands in front of him. On impact, he felt the searing pain of the concrete shredding off the skin of his palms and the crisp crack of his right wrist snapping. The momentum made him keep going so he rolled a few times, only stopping when he hit someone’s legs. He cried out in pain and cradled his bloody broken wrist to his chest. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” He faintly heard, the voice sounded muffled and he figured that he may have hit his head whilst rolling, probably sporting a concussion now.

Jisung blinked slowly, scrunching his face, as the person came into focus in front of his face. He looked to be just barely older than Jisung, he had sharp foreign features and a higher voice. 

“I’m calling the police okay? You’re ‘gonna be fine.” He said anxiously.

Jisung peeked at his wrist and felt bile in his throat as he saw that the bone had pierced the skin. His blood ran cold and he started gagging at the feeling of the warmth going down his arm. He somehow managed to turn on his side and he threw up his small dinner from the previous night. His initial shock was fading and the pain was catching up with him. 

“Hey, look at me okay? Don’t look at that just look at me. Focus on me. You’ll be okay. What’s your name?”

“J-Jisung Park.” He whimpered through gasped breaths.

“Okay Jisung, I'm Renjun and you’re gonna be fine. Help is on the way.”

Jisung barely managed a nod and instead focused on evening out his labored breathing and trying to think of anything but the pain.

By the time the ambulance came, he was barely conscious. By they reached the hospital his world had gone black.

 

\- 

 

“ -ou see Mrs. Park it seems your son has endured a serious brake. We performed emergency surgery and he should pull through just fine without any future motor complications. The pain prescription we have for him is the only one he can have due to his apparent sensitivity to antibiotics.”

“How much is the prescription.”

“For two weeks worth it’s about  ₩ 135000.”

“I understand.”

Jisung opened his eyes at the voices in the room. His head felt foggy and he was somewhat confused. He attempted to sit up, only to have a searing flash of pain go though his body upon trying to put weight on his right hand. He groaned and fell back onto the uncomfortable bed. 

“Where ‘m I?” he muttered drowsily.

“You’re at the hospital son, do you remember what happened?”

“Uh, getting dumped, longboarding, hitting a curb, getting the shit beaten out of me by pavement.”

“Well that's a general statement but yes. You incurred a second degree concussion, a severe but clean break on your right wrist and multiple contusions all over your body. You also sustained a minor fracture of on of the ribs on your right side. My recommendations for a fast recovery are for you to rest up for a few days as to not further your head injury and no physical exertion for a while, avoid longboarding and any sports. We can remove the cast in a month in place for a wrap and in about a month and a half you should be completely healed. After that just focus on physio therapy and re-introducing exercise into your daily regimen.” 

“Uh yeah, sure. When can I get out of here?” Jisung questioned, noticing his mothers glares.

“Now if you’d like. I understand that you are a student so you may be busy.” Only now did Jisung  _ actually  _ look at the doctor, his hairline receding. Smile lines deeply embedded into his aged features. And on his exposed wrist, right above a cheap silver watch were the black words, ‘you took a bullet for me’. Jisung found these words interesting and saw that peeking out of the top of his scrubs was a scar.

“Yes please.” He smiled once again and retrieved a stack of clothes consisting of Jisung’s white ripped skinny jeans, vans, and tight black tank top along with his necklace and ear piercings. He noticed that his light brown hoodie was nowhere to be seen. 

“Your sweater was torn up and stained during the incident. We had our staff stitch it up and attempt to clean the stains but to no avail. We still have it if you’d like to keep it.”

“I would thank you.” Jisung requested quietly, knowing that that was his only good sweater and that it would be a very cold fall without it.

“Of course.” The man reached down once again and lifted the clothing up to place it on the pile. Jisung clenched his jaw at the sewed up elbows and the large red, almost brown stain, going up his right sleeve along with random splatters littered in sporadic locations.

The doctor and his mother left the room leaving him to change and ponder what was awaiting for him come his arrival at home.

 

The chilly October air nipped and Jisung’s exposed cheeks, his breath fogging as he curled his right arm closer to his chest and gripped his surprisingly undamaged longboard tighter. The sweater smelt of hospital cleaners and Jisung would have to wash it again the next time he went to the laundromat.

“I’m just ‘gonna have a smoke okay mom.” 

“Fine, but give me one and we are going to have a… conversation when we get back to the apartment.”

“I understand.” he muttered, placing his longboard down in the backseat of his mothers near broken volkswagen. He used his good hand to fish through the bag the hospital had placed his belongings in before retrieving the cardboard pack and lighter. He placed the stick in between his pink bitten lips and keeping it there while he lit it, knowing how to do it with one hand after one of his mothers particularly bad days. He offered a stick and the lighter to his mother who after lighting it, stuck the orange bic lighter into the pocket of her ratty jeans. Jisung made a mental note to buy another one when he got his next paycheck.

The two smoked in silence. The air thick and filled with unspoken words. Jisung tossed the butt on the ground and stomped it out. He went to sit in the back seat, knowing that sitting in the passenger would only make things worse. While his mother finished her cigarette outside he fished through the bag once again, pulling out the pain meds  the doctor gave him, saying that a bill would be sent in the mail. He struggled with the cap for what seemed like forever as opening a child proofed lid with only one hand proved to be a surprisingly difficult task and after finally wrestling it open he shook two out, popping them into his mouth and swallowing them dry. He had only just placed the bottle back into the bag when his mother yanked the door open, plopping down into  the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut. She started the car and drove to their apartment complex in silence. Jisung found himself growing increasingly anxious. He placed his head on the window and stared outside watching as the neighborhoods grew worse and worse. Eventually they reached their block and parked. The elevator was out of order as per usual so they walked the four flights of stairs to their dingy apartment. His mother opened the door, it never being locked as what was there to steal? 

She walked in and Jisung followed silently behind her. The door shut with a click and he put down the bag, he shrugged of his hoodie being careful of his cast and didn’t let out a sound as the first slap stung his cheek making the black eye he had obtained ache even more.

He took a deep breath as his mother went into her bedroom he choked down his anger towards her. She emerged with a worn leather belt. 

“You just cost me my dope. Like hell ‘imma pay that shit. Like hell you’re getting anymore of that bullshit.” She hissed. Jisung nodded.   
“Take off your shirt and turn around.”

Jisung did so in silence, stripping the tight shirt and going to the wall and placing his left forearm on it to steady himself. 

  
The first lash came suddenly, burning his bruised flesh and he gritted his teeth. They kept going and he began to groan, dropping to his knees from the agony of leather hitting his flesh. He fell to his side and opening up more spots for his mother to hit. She began hitting his chest, opening a couple of stitches placed around there and making him yell out as she hit the giant bruise on his side covering his fractured rib.

“You useless-”  _ lash  _ “piece of-”  _ lash  _ “shit!”  _ lash  _ “You are-”  _ lash  _ “a waste of-”  _ lash _ “space.” She stopped, seething with anger and huffing out laboured breaths.

“Get out of my apartment. Your faggot ass isn’t welcome here.”

“W-what?” Jisung croaked, not believing what he was hearing.

“I don’t want you. You’re not my child okay? Pack your shit and get out. You like seventeen anyways.” She yelled and went over to the pile of pillows in what used to be the living room, now it just had a few thrift store pillows vaguely resembling a couch and nothing else other than his mother's ‘fun pack’. She plopped down and used the belt to tie off her arm, fetching a syringe from her bag.

Jisung looked away and used the wall to get up. He couldn’t breath with his aching rib albeit the meds he took in advance helped numb the pain. His mother surprisingly hadn’t hit his wrist which he was grateful for but the beating seemingly made his head worse as well. 

He hobbled to his room using the walls and his door frame to support him. He shoved his tattered hoodie on again and grabbed a backpack, shoving his few belongings in it along with his clothes. He made a quick decision to grab his blanket and pillow before limping out, attempting to ignore the fact that some of his newest wounds had begun to bleed along with his now open cuts furthur staining his sweater. He made his way to the door and sparing a glance at his mother, now blissed out on the floor with the needle still in her arm. He sighed and walked over and removed the tourniquet and syringe. Knowing that if it stayed on she’d lose circulation to that arm. He kissed her forehead and walked over to the door, tears leaking down his face. He hated himself for being too weak to stand up to her but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t seem to hate her. 

 

By the time he had left the apartment it had become night, well according to his cheap walmart watch about 9:00 pm. It had gotten even colder in the time since he left the hospital and he shivered as he walked to his mother’s car. He opened the back door and tucked his longboard under his bad arm glad that his mother had once again not locked the doors.

 

And then he was off.

 

Eventually Jisung found a bench that didn’t having anyone sleeping or sitting on it. He received pitiful looks as he limped through the streets. Men and women looking at the teenager who could barely walk, bleeding and bruised. Carrying all his belongings. He stopped at the bus bench he had found and curled up on it. Placing down his pillow and blanket. He made the decision to tie everything to himself using yarn he decided to buy at a   ₩1000 shop so that he wouldn’t be robbed while he slept. Once everything was tied to his cast - he hoped that the pain of someone yanking it would wake him - he got as comfortable as he could he fell into a fretful sleep.

 

When the first splatter of rain hit Jisung he stayed asleep. But as the sparse drops grew into a downpour he was forced to wake up. He grabbed his things as fast as he could, holding all of them in his arms, still tied to his cast. He pushed off on his longboard and rolled down the sidewalk as him, and everything he owned, was soaked. Eventually he curled up on the patio of a Starbucks (much to his internal demise) under one of the umbrellas. He shivered as the rain fell in sleets around him, his clothes were soaked and his wet blanket and pillow only made it worse. So Jisung suffered through it. Shivering as his lips turned blue he fell into a nightmare ridden asleep.

 

The boy was shaken awake early in the morning, the sun peeking over buildings and the sounds of Seoul waking up filling the air.   
“I’m sorry, I have to ask you to leave sir, we’re about to open” Jisung blinked a few times and turned to face whoever had been shaking his back. Jisung groaned at the sickly feeling in his chest. “Sir I don’t want to call the police.” Whoever was waking him spoke again, shaking him again but accidentally grasping the area of his fractured rib. Jisung yelped and sat up clutching his side and grinding his teeth in pain. 

“Holy shit are you okay? How old are you? Do you need to go to a hospital?”   
Jisung opened his eyes that he had subconsciously shut and looked at the stranger. He was shorter than Jisung, with hair cropped shorter than Jisungs, dark brown with an exception for blonde tips.

Jisung processed the questions as he sat stood up, mark standing with him. 

“I’m fine just cold, I’m uh eighteen and I was released from the hospital yesterday.” He gave a shaky smile and packed his things, untying them.

“Wait! Come inside for a moment. I’ll get you something to wear.” 

Jisung nodded and took a step before stumbling and catching his aching body on the table with his good hand, dropping his things in response.   
“Okay hold on, I’m ‘gonna get my co-worker to help me get you inside okay? I’ll be right back.” The man, who seemed a few years older than Jisung, said before scurrying inside. Jisung took the time to slide to the ground and rummage through his bag and retrieving his medication, popping two of the small pills in his mouth. He turned his head as the first guy and another seemingly around the same age ran over. 

“What the fuck happened to him Mark?” The new guy asked.

“I don’t know, let’s just get him inside.” Mark said, panicked.

“Y’know ‘m ‘gonna be fine, I’ve been avoiding starbucks’ for forever and I don’t ‘wanna break that now.” Jisung stated, his voice slurred from being sick, concussed and in a lot of pain.

“Donghyuk, grab under his shoulders, be careful of his right side.” Mark ordered, Donghyuk obeying silently.  Together the two somehow got the taller boy inside the store and to one of the tables. Donghyuk ran back outside and retrieved the boys stuff. 

“Can I check your wounds?” Mark asked empathetically, practically ignoring the other man as he came back inside the store.

Jisung nodded and silently let Mark remove his wet sweater. 

“Oh my god, what the fuck. Donghyuk get the first aid kit.” Mark said hurriedly upon seeing the cesspool of blood, bruises and general injury. 

“What happened to you?!” He yelled as Donghyuk ran to the back. His voice was loud and seemingly drilled into Jisung’s brain.

“Shhh, I have a concussion.” He said with a giggle.

“What happened?” Mark asked again this time far quieter.

“Well, first I crashed into the pavement on my board, then I went to the hospital with a broken wrist, concussion, and fractured rib and  _ then  _ when I got home my mom beat the shit out of me with a belt, called me a faggot and kicked me out before shooting up again. It’s been a long two days.” Jisung chuckled dryly.

“And you’re eighteen?” The man asked to which Jisung nodded.

“You’re too young to have to go through with anything like this. Are you living on the streets?” 

“Yeah, yeah I am.” Jisung felt a hot feeling in his chest and his throat closing up. He sniffled once before his eyes began to water.

“It hurts, a-and I’m scared and cold and I just want people to not hate me.” As he said this the dam broke and tears began flowing from his eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’ll work out okay. I’m sure not everyone hates you.” Mark didn’t know what he was saying but as he dressed the crying boy’s wounds he felt a sense of protection overwhelm him.

“Yes, they do. My dad’s dead, my mother kicked me out, my boyfriend broke up with me yesterday and I have no friends. I don’t try hard in school so my teachers don’t like me, my coworkers make me pick up their slack and I have nowhere to stay so yeah, I think everyone hates me.” Jisung said. Wiping deftly at his wet eyes.

“Well I don’t. And from now on you’re crashing at my place. I’m sorry to say that I can’t take you in tonight but come back here at three pm tomorrow and I’ll bring you to my place. And you can take my jacket. No if’s and’s or but’s. Got it?”

  
  


Somehow Jisung managed to go to school and work the same day, despite still feeling somewhat sick. Using the gym showers to wash up before school started and making sure to avoid Jaemin as much as possible, which was difficult seeing as they shared a history class and the other seemingly was staring at Jisung the entire time. Jisung ended up switching seats with a girl in the class just so he wouldn’t have to sit next to the other boy and left as fast as possible to avoid the boys' questions in regards to his injuries. He went to work after school, letting his employer know that he had to take it easy and staying on the till at the bakery he worked at. The night was cold once again and he threw away his blanket and pillow as they wouldn’t dry. He curled under an overpass and let the sounds of cars overhead lull him to sleep. The next day was Saturday and Jisung found himself lying on a bench in a nearby park all day reading a book he had guiltily taken from a stand while the shopkeeper was gone. The day passed surprisingly quickly and three pm steadily approached. At two forty-five Jisung closed the book and put his things in his bag once again. He began walking to the Starbucks, a sense of anxiety settling over him just because of the coffee shop. He tightened Mark’s warm jacket the other had graciously let him borrow, around him as he approached the store. Upon entry Jisung already felt nervous, not having felt it as much when he was breaking down the other day. The boy working the cash looked around Jisung’s age and was absolutely breathtaking. He had a foreign look to him along with a bright smile and silver dyed hair that looked stupidly adorable. Jisung approached him to ask where Mark was, there being no line. The boy was seemingly distracted with the machine but noticed Jisung’s approach anyway. 

“Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you today.” The boy said in a cheerful slightly accented voice. Jisung felt himself freeze over at the sentence and an iron grip settled over his heart as the boy looked up and met Jisung’s eyes. Jisung shoved up the jacket sleeve and his eyes widened at the fact that his words had turned black.

“Don’t tell me that those are seriously the first words I say to my soulmate. Oh my god, that’s so dumb!” The boy, his name tag reading Chenle, said cheerfully.    
“To be fair yours were an off-hand apology so who knows,” he added.

Jisung remained still. Eyes wide and staring at the print.

“Are you okay?” Jisung looked up, snapped out of his daze and looked at the boy. He already felt attracted by Chenle’s bright personality and smile. The world around him seemingly went away as he stared at the marvelous human in front of him.

“This can’t be happening,” He said just above a whisper. A flash of pain went through Chenle’s features.

“A-Am I not enough?” Chenle said, confused.

“I, I don’t deserve a soulmate, everything in my life falls apart when soulmates get involved. I have nothing left to break so that lets it fall on you. I’m not ruining your life.” Jisung said sternly, ignoring the ache in his chest urging him to envelop the other in a hug. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. At least take me out for dinner in return for almost running me over with your skateboard. You owe me that.” Somehow Chenle kept smiling through the situation. Jisung opened his mouth to object when Mark emerged from the back.   
“Jisung! I’m glad you actually came dude. I have to pull a little over time but we can be out of here in around half an hour if that’s okay with you. Maybe order some pizza or fried chicken. Both would be great actually.”

Jisung nodded dumbly, struck down by the man’s kindness.

“You know him Mark?” Chenle asked from the counter. 

“Sorta, he was sleeping outside about two days ago and I brought him in. He’s pretty banged up so I’m letting him stay at my place tonight.”   
“Banged up? What do you mean banged up?” The boy asked worriedly.

“Can I tell him Jisung?” Mark asked.

“Go ahead, he has a right to know before jumping straight into this whole thing.”

“Jumping into what? Do you know Chenle?”

“I do know seeing as we’re soulmates,” Jisung said as he took a seat at one of the tables in the empty coffee shop.

“Soul- seriously? Holy shit guys, congrats.”

“So what happened to you?” Chenle asked Jisung, concern written all over his features.

“I was longboarding, probably the same day I almost hit you, and I hit a curb. Broke my wrist, fractured my rib and got a wicked headache,”

“There’s a difference between a headache and a concussion Jisung.” Mark intervened.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyways, after getting discharged I went home and my mom beat the ever living shit out of me before saying that I was a faggot and no son of hers. Then I got kicked out and left to sleep in the rain. That’s all for the major events that have occurred in the last few days I believe.” He explained with a dry chuckle.

Chenle stood dumb with shock, eyes wide and jaw hanging ajar.

“I get if it’s too much for you and I’ll understand if you don’t ‘wanna keep in contact with me.”

For some reason just the thought of never getting to know the extraordinary person in front of him left Jisung distraught. 

“Do you already think so little of me?” Jisung’s head snapped up at the statement. Chenle’s mouth had turned into a small frown, bordering on a pout.

“I’ve waited for a soulmate all my life, I moved to Korea from fucking China and I was starting to believe that I left my soulmate in Shanghai. Like hell I’m going to give up on this without trying first.”

Jisung was dumbfounded for what seemed like the nth time that day.

“Well I’m ‘gonna leave you two to talk while I check the stock in the back so, don’t kill each other,” Mark said as he retreated into the back room once again.

“Xiaojun would you mind taking care of the till and drive through? Stick on customer service and I’ll do the drinks.” Chenle asked a guy with ebony hair.    
“Sure Lele.” He replied, walking over to the machine to deal with an approaching customer.

“So tell me about yourself Jisung.” 

“Um okay. Well, my name is Park Jisung, I’m a senior at Lila art high school; the one in Yejang-dong, I work at the bakery Tae Guk Dang in  Jangchung-dong. I want to be a dancer and yeah, that’s about all I can think of.” Jisung struggled to find anything particularly interesting about his life but drew only blanks.

“Okay well, my name is Zhong Chenle. I technically graduated last year but I’m doing a victory lap at Lila funnily enough. I work, well, here obviously but I occasionally give singing lessons to little kids. I’m trying to decide whether I want to be a hair stylist or a singer. I’m leaning towards the latter though.”

“How is it that I never see you at school?” Jisung asked quizzically. 

“I actually have no idea.” 

A silence settled between the two, not awkward but rather Jisung just watching Chenle as he made coffees.   
“Do you ‘wanna join me for lunch on Monday? We can just spend it in the cafeteria, maybe I can meet some of your friends.” Chenle asked. Jisung was about to say that he didn’t have any friends when Jaemin flashed through his mind.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Chenle nodded with a small smile gracing his fair features.

 

While Chenle remained busy with a sudden rush of customers Jisung plugged in his phone, opening it up to his texts with Jaemin. He took a moment to collect his nerves before texting the pink haired boy.

 

**Jisung 3:38pm :**

hey jaeminie. I’m just texting you to say that i’m sorry about everything. I overreacted and it took me finding my own soulmate to understand what you were feeling. im so sorry

 

**Jaemin 3:39pm :**

oh my god jisung! im so happy you texted me. ive been so worried about you ever since you stormed off! you dont need to apologize, it was sudden and you were upset. im just not ready to lose my bestfriend.

 

**Jaemin 3:39pm :**

wait wait wait. you found your soulmate? thats amazing! whats their name?

 

**Jisung 3:40pm :**

his name is zhong chenle. hes a student in our school actually

 

**Jaemin 3:41pm :**

no way! i have singing class with him! that guy has the voice of an angel. 

 

**Jisung 3:42pm :**

well how would you and jeno feel about meeting him on monday? cafeteria at lunch?

 

**Jaemin 3:43pm :**

of course!

 

**Jisung 3:45pm :**

thank you for forgiving me jaeminie

 

**Jaemin 3:46pm :**

youre stupid to think i was mad in the first place

 

Jisung looked up from his phone with a smile on his face. Chenle seemed to be finished his shift as he had changed into black ripped jeans much like Jisung’s own and an oversized pale pink hoodie, god rest Jisung’s soul.

“Mark said that I can go early and he’ll cover the rest of my shift so that we could grab a coffee or something. If you want.” Chenle was fiddling with the ends of his sweater sleeves and Jisung knew that there was only one answer he good give the beautiful man in front of him.

“Of course.”

 

-

 

The two talked about everything. School courses, plans for the future, family, friends, childhoods and funny stories from their lives. Jisung knew that by the time the hours had passed and their coffees had long been finished he was done for. He never wanted to without Chenle despite barely knowing him. The two walked back to Marks apartment holding hands, fingers intertwined and sending electricity through Jisung’s spine. Chenle stopped them outside of the building entrance.

“I had a lot of fun,” Chenle said, facing Jisung.

“I did too, we should do it again, I’m working tomorrow, but Monday? After school?” Jisung took a small almost unnoticeable step towards the silver haired boy.

“That would be great,” Chenle said in just above a whisper, his free hand reaching up and cupping Jisung’s cheek, his thumb light brushing over the blonde’s black eye. 

All Jisung could do was look at the other boy's lips.   
_ Don’t do it. He doesn’t deserve the pain. I don’t deserve it. _

Jisung thought of all the things that he had been through and one thought flitted through his mind.

_ Maybe if anything I deserve a little bit of happiness. _

The tension broke as Jisung dove down and captured the boys lips with his own. The kiss was soft and sweet. When Chenle started kissing back Jisung gripped his waist as the older cupped his face. When they separated they both wore giddy smiles.   
“Maybe I was wrong about soulmates.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading lovelys!!!  
> This was just something I started at 3am one night and I figured that I should probably finish it now so I hope you enjoyed!  
> Leave comments and kudos!  
> My twitter is  
> @hyunjinnlove and @correctskzz


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